“You’re not fat,” Calabah said, glad Atretes was so quickly forgotten. She smoothed the fine wool of her red-trimmed toga and watched Julia surreptitiously. She was so lovely, so graceful in her movements, like a work of art. She could sit and gaze at her all day. The thought of a baby distorting her was repugnant. “How far along are you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. I never stopped to think much about it when I missed my flux. Three months, I think, maybe four. You really don’t think I’m fat?” she said, looking down at her hands spread over her abdomen. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
Calabah studied her critically. “You do look a little tired and drawn, but no one would guess you were expecting a baby. Not yet.”
“Not yet,” Julia said grimly. “Why did this have to happen just when I was happy? It’s not fair. Mama said the gods were smiling on me. Smiling! They’re laughing at me! I can almost hear them.”
“Then end it,” Calabah said in her most reasonable tone, a beatific smile curving her lips.
“End what?” Julia said blankly, wiping her eyes again and blowing her nose delicately. “My life? I might as well. It’s already over.”
“Nonsense. I mean terminate the pregnancy. You needn’t have this child if it’s making you so unhappy.”
Julia raised her head in surprise. “But how?”
“You really are ridiculously innocent, Julia. I don’t know why I waste my time with you. Have you never heard of abortion?”
Julia paled and stared at her in alarm. “Are you saying I should kill my own baby?”
Calabah uttered a soft gasp and stood, insulted and angry. “Do you think so little of me as that? Of course, I would never suggest such a thing. Right now, in the early stages of your pregnancy, what’s inside you is merely a symbol of human life, not actual life. It doesn’t possess any humanness whatsoever and it won’t for another few months.”
Julia was uncertain. “My father and mother were so happy with the news. To them, what I carry now is a child.”
“Of course. It’s a subtle way of pressing you to do what they want. They want you to have grandchildren for them.”
She looked away from Calabah’s compelling dark eyes. “Neither of them would approve of abortion.”
“What has this to do with them?” Calabah said. She stood regally and approached Julia. “It’s this kind of thinking that infuriates me. Don’t you see the trap, Julia? Don’t you understand? By denying you your right to choose, they deny you the right to protect your physical, mental, and emotional health. They take away your humanness for the sake of a mere symbol.”
She put her arm around her. “Julia, I care about you. You know that. It’s your life we’re discussing, not your mother’s. Certainly not your father’s. Your mother made her choices, and they were good for her.” She let her go. “Now it’s time for you to make yours. Who are you? What do you want? Julia, look at me. Look at me, dear. You’re clearly miserable over this pregnancy. Caius doesn’t want a child. He’s made that perfectly obvious. If he doesn’t want a child and you don’t want one either, why are you going through all this?”
“Because I didn’t think I could do anything about it,” Julia said, shaking beneath Calabah’s stare.
“It’s your body, Julia. It’s your decision whether you have a child or not. It has nothing to do with anyone else.”
“Yes, but my father would never forgive me . . .”
“Why should your father even know about it? It’s not his business, is it? If they question you, if you must tell them something, tell them you had a miscarriage.”
Julia sighed wearily. “I don’t know, Calabah. I don’t know what to do.” She peered out into the garden and watched Hadassah cutting flowers. How could anyone look so peaceful with all that was going on in this household? She wished she could go out in the sunshine and sit with her and listen to her songs and forget everything else. She wished she could forget the look on Caius’ face when she had told him she was carrying his child.
“How could you be so stupid!” His words still rang in her ears, along with the news Octavia had brought her so gleefully. “I don’t know for certain they made love, but they were gone for a very long time.”
Caius was having affairs. Julia was certain of it. He hadn’t been to her bed in weeks, and his sensual nature would have driven him to find release elsewhere. Willing partners would pose no difficulty. Like they did with Marcus, women flocked around Julia’s husband.
Julia bit her lip to keep from crying again. She didn’t want to be pregnant and have her life turned upside down. She didn’t want to get fat and ugly and lose Caius. All she wanted was to be out of this situation, to have the problem gone and her life back the way it was. She couldn’t stand the thought of Caius making love to anyone else, though she didn’t think she could stand to have him touch her again, not now that she knew he’d betrayed her. All she knew was she wanted him to look at her the way he had before, as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world and he wanted to devour her.
Julia stared out at Hadassah. What would she say to all this? Julia longed to talk to her.
Calabah moved, somehow shadowing the garden and recapturing Julia’s attention. “Lovely child, does it only take a few weeks for you to forget all I taught you? You, and only you, are the master of your destiny. No one else.”
Julia trembled slightly as though a chill wind had blown over her. Calabah was right. It was the only way. Still, she hesitated; some inner voice cried out to her not to do it. “Would the abortion hurt very much?” she said quietly.
“Not as much as having a baby,” Calabah said.
Fear took the place of uncertainty. “You speak as though you know.”
“One needn’t suffer death to know it’s something to avoid.” She smiled. “I’ve always been very careful to prevent getting pregnant. I never wanted to be so fat I couldn’t see my own feet and have nothing to look forward to but pain. I’ve witnessed childbirth, Julia, and I can tell you it’s excruciating, undignified, and bloody. It takes hours. Some women die giving birth to their babies. Those who don’t are in servitude for the rest of their lives. Do you know what a tremendous responsibility it is to rear a child? Men don’t help. They don’t have to. Caius certainly won’t. The care and educating of your child will be up to you.”
Julia sank down onto a couch and closed her eyes against the picture Calabah created. Horrible pain followed by a life of drudgery. “My mother never told me there were ways to keep from getting pregnant.”
“She wouldn’t,” Calabah said, her tone full of pity. “It’s beyond the realm of her thinking, Julia. Your mother is still mired in ancient traditions foisted upon her by the unthinking generations before her. Children are her sole purpose for existence.” She sat down and took Julia’s hand. “Don’t you see yet? Traditions have imprisoned women for centuries. It is time we were free, Julia. Break your chains! This is a new age.”
Julia sighed. “I lack your wisdom, Calabah, and your confidence.”
Calabah smiled and kissed her cheek. “Will you ever come to understand the great truths I’ve taught you over the past months?”
“Tell me what I must do,” Julia pleaded.
“You must make your own decisions, dear heart.” She rose and went to the window to look out into the garden. She seemed so majestic and beautiful, yet somehow shadowed even with an aura of sunlight around her. “Julia, you must plan your life the way you want it to happen. Visualize it. See it in your mind, happening as you make it happen.” She looked back at her. “Happiness springs from within you, from your own inner power.”
Julia listened, the confidence and cadence of Calabah’s words giving her hope. “I know you’re right.” She sighed and looked away, pensive and shaken. “Abortion is the only answer.” She clenched her hands. “Is it difficult to find someone who can do it?”
“Not at all. It’s a common practice. I know at least half
a dozen physicians who perform it daily.”
“But will it be painful?”
“There will be some discomfort, but not a great deal and not for long. It’ll be all over in a few hours, and you’ll have your life back again, just the way you want it to be.” She came to Julia and sat beside her, placing her hand over hers. “When do you wish to have it done?”
Julia glanced up, pale. “Maybe in a week or two.”
“Very well,” Calabah said with a soft sigh, taking her hand away. “But you must understand, Julia. The longer you wait, the more risk you take.”
Fear swept through Julia. “Then I should have it done now?”
“It would be wise to have it done as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning, if it can be arranged.”
“Where must I go?”
“Nowhere. I know a physician who is very discreet and will come to you.”
Calabah stood, and Julia clutched her hand even tighter, looking up at her with huge, frightened eyes. “Will you stay with me until it’s over?”
Calabah touched her cheek tenderly. “I’ll do whatever you want, Julia.”
“I want you with me. I’ll feel better about this if you are.”
Calabah bent and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I won’t betray you like the others. I’m not your father or Caius.” She straightened and smiled down at her. “You’ve made a wise decision. After the abortion is over, you can forget it ever happened and start over. I’ll teach you what you need to do to keep from getting pregnant again.”
Julia watched her walk from the room. As soon as she was alone, she buried her face in her hands and wept.
Hadassah knew she was to leave Julia alone when she had guests. She found other things to do while she waited to be summoned. Today, she worked in the garden alongside Sergius, a slave from Brittania. When Julia came out, Sergius found work far up the path and well away from her, safely out of reach of her swift temper.
Dismayed, Hadassah saw Julia had been crying again. Ever since Octavia had visited, her mistress had been agitated and emotional, given to bouts of tears and rage. Apparently Calabah’s visit hadn’t improved matters. Julia sat in the sunshine and complained she was cold. Hadassah fetched her shawl, but saw she was still shivering. “Are you feeling all right, my lady? Is it the baby?”
Julia stiffened. The baby. It wasn’t a baby yet. Calabah had said so. Calabah knew. “Sing to me,” she ordered tersely, nodding to the small harp beside her. It had a leather strap, so Hadassah could carry it with her at all times, only setting it aside as she worked or slept. Julia watched Hadassah pick it up and begin strumming it gently. A soft melody soothed her frayed nerves.
Hadassah sang, but noticed Julia scarcely listened. She was distracted, distraught. Hadassah watched her hands pleat the wool of her palus and then clench into white-knuckled fists. Removing the small harp, she went to her. She knelt and took her hands. “What distresses you so?”
“This . . . this pregnancy.”
“Are you afraid? Please don’t be, my lady,” she said. “It’s the most natural thing in the world. The Lord has smiled on you. Having a child is the greatest blessing God can give a woman.”
“A blessing?” Julia said bitterly.
“You’re nurturing new life . . . ”
Julia pulled her hands away. “What do you know about it?” She stood and moved away from her. Pressing her fingers against her temples, she tried to regain control of her turbulent emotions. It was time she stopped reacting like a child to everything. Calabah was right. She must take control of her life.
She looked back at Hadassah, still kneeling beside the marble bench, her brown eyes full of compassion and concern. Julia pressed her hand against her heart and felt an unspeakable regret. Hadassah loved her. It was why she needed her so much. It was why she had taken her back from her mother and father. Her mouth curved bitterly. How pitifully ironic that it had to be a slave who loved her unconditionally. It should be her parents. It should be Caius.
“You can’t understand what I’m going through, Hadassah. You don’t know what it’s like being sick, feeling tired all the time, having your husband discard you. What can you know about loving a man the way I love Caius?”
Hadassah stood slowly. She searched her face, wondering at the desperation she saw. “You carry his child.”
“A child he doesn’t want, a child that’s driven us apart. Don’t talk to me of this being a blessing from the gods,” Julia said angrily.
“Give yourself time, my lady.” Why couldn’t Julia have the eyes to see and ears to hear the Lord and realize she was blessed?
“Time won’t change anything,” Julia said. “Other than to make matters more difficult.” Calabah was right. She must take control. She must make things right again. But she was afraid of the decision she had made. Doubt attacked her. Just because it was a common practice, did that make it right? If it was right, why was she assailed by doubt?
Was there such a thing as right and wrong? Didn’t it all depend on circumstances? Wasn’t happiness the primary thing to achieve in life?
She wanted Hadassah to understand what she was going through. She wanted her to say everything would be fine, that her decision to have an abortion was rational. She wanted her to say that what she was about to do was the only thing she could do to make things as they used to be between her and Caius. But when she looked into her little Jewess’s eyes, she couldn’t utter a word. She couldn’t tell her anything. What Calabah saw as only a symbol, she knew Hadassah saw as a life.
What did it matter what a slave thought? She knew nothing. She was nothing. She was a slave, dispossessed by her own unseen god.
“You say it’s a blessing because someone told you it was a blessing,” Julia said, in angry defense. “You’re just repeating what you’ve heard. Everything you sing, everything you say is just a repeat of someone else’s words and thoughts. Isn’t that what you always did with Claudius? Recite your Scriptures, tell him your stories? You haven’t a thought of your own. How could you understand what I have to endure, the choices I have to make?”
Speaking harshly to Hadassah gave her no relief. In fact, she felt worse. “I’m tired. I’m going inside to rest.”
“I’ll bring you some mulled wine, my lady.”
Hadassah’s gentleness was salt on a raw wound, and Julia reacted in blind pain. “Don’t bring me anything. Don’t come anywhere near me. Just leave me alone!”
Caius came home late in the afternoon. He was in a rage and Julia knew he had lost at the races again. Her resentment grew until she couldn’t resist taunting him a little. “Your luck always held when I accompanied you,” she said.
Caius turned slightly and looked at her with fierce, dark eyes. “A good thing you were rich, my dear, or I never would’ve given you a second look.”
His cruel words were like a physical blow. She could hardly breathe past the constriction of pain at his words. Was it true? It couldn’t be. He was drunk. That’s why he spoke so cruelly. He was always cruel when he was drunk. She wanted to lash back, to draw his blood, but could think of nothing strong enough to accomplish it. He smiled at her, a cold, mocking smile that lacerated her. He was impenetrable and knew it.
Pouring himself a full goblet of wine, Caius drank it straight down. His temper erupted and he heaved the empty silver goblet across the room. It clattered against a mural of frolicking maidens and satyrs and made Julia flinch. “You better hope my luck at the races improves,” he said cryptically and left her.
Calabah came early the next morning. Accompanying her was a small Roman woman in a pristine white toga trimmed with gold. A male slave accompanied her and held an ominous carved box beneath his arm.
“You needn’t look so frightened, Julia,” Calabah said, putting an arm around her. “Asellina is very good at this. She’s done it many, many times before.” She guided her along the marble-tiled hallway to her chambers. “Her reputation is impeccable and she’s highly respected among her p
eers. She wrote about abortion techniques for the medical community last year, and her work on the subject is widely circulated. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Asellina ordered one of Caius’ slaves to replenish the brazier and keep it well-stoked so the room would be warm. Her slave set the carved box down. She opened it and removed an amphora. Pouring some of the contents into a goblet, she added wine and brought it to Julia. “Drink this.”
The sweet wine had an aftertaste as bitter as gall.
“All of it,” Asellina said, pressing the goblet back to her again. “Every drop.” She stood watching and then took the empty goblet from Julia’s shaking hands and gave it to her slave. “Remove your clothing and lie back.”
A wave of panic gripped Julia. Calabah came to her and helped her. “It will be all right,” she whispered, assisting her. “Trust me. Try to relax. It’ll make it easier.”
Asellina examined her carefully, inserting something inside her and leaving it. She straightened and washed her hands in a bowl of water her slave held for her. “She is further along than you said.”
“She wasn’t sure,” Calabah told her softly.
Asellina took a towel and came to stand over Julia. She smiled down at her. Handing the towel to her slave, she placed her hand on Julia’s brow. “You’ll feel cramping soon, my dear. The discomfort lasts until your body expels the mass of tissue. A few hours, nothing more.” She moved back slightly and glanced briefly at Calabah. “A moment of your time . . .”
They spoke in hushed voices near the door. Calabah sounded angry. “Your fee has increased,” Julia heard her say.
“My skill is in greater demand, and you insisted it be done swiftly. I had to reschedule to come here.”
Calabah came back and bent down to Julia. “I’m sorry, Julia, but I must ask. Have you any money on hand?”
“No. Caius manages everything.”
“You must change that,” Calabah said, annoyed. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. I’ll have to give her your pearls until we can get cash.”
A Voice in the Wind Page 35
